


Harry Potter and the Return of Lord Voldemort

by The_Mountain_Fairy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Friendship, Gen, No Bashing, No Romance, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Mountain_Fairy/pseuds/The_Mountain_Fairy
Summary: Quirinus Quirrell succeeded in retrieving the Philosopher's Stone, and the imminent comeback of Lord Voldemort drew near. Meanwhile, Harry Potter was set to start his first year at Hogwarts.Canon Divergence in which Harry was born exactly one year later.
Relationships: Colin Creevey & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited by my amazing beta reader who can be found on AO3 under the username Endless_Dream. They're also writing a fic of their own. It's called Divided Loyalties. Make sure to check it out, if you like to read fanfiction about the Fantastic Beasts movies. It's definitely worth the while!
> 
> Here's the link to the story:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491933/chapters/56328097

**A/N:** This chapter has been edited by my amazing beta reader who can be found on FFN under the username _**Endless8Dream**_ and on AO3 under _**Endless_Dream**_. They're also writing a fic of their own. It's called _**Divided Loyalties**_. Make sure to check it out, if you enjoy fanfiction about the Fantastic Beasts movies. It's definitely worth the while!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The doorbell rang while Harry was frying another batch of bacon and eggs for Dudley, who had yet to reach his fill for that morning.

"Give me that," Aunt Petunia said, as she grabbed the pan out of Harry's hands, "and go answer the door."

Aunt Petunia had been in a bit of a mood ever since Dudley had tripped over and broken an expensive, porcelain vase that Yvonne Wright, one of her friends, had bought as a souvenir while holidaying in Majorca last summer. Dudley had accused Harry, who had happened to be in the vicinity at the time, of tripping him on purpose. As usual, neither Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon had believed Harry. The incident had cost him a whole week locked inside his cupboard. To say the least, Harry had no desire to arise his aunt's ire again, so he quietly made his way towards the front door without any complaints.

Halfway down the hall, Harry was forced to quicken his steps in response to the doorbell's second ring. He flung the door open. Outside, a stern-looking woman jumped in surprise, while Harry, after a good look at her, gaped.

The woman was wearing peculiar, emerald robes embroidered with intricate, hand-stitched, black and gold patterns, and a pointed hat, the kind someone would see during Hallowe'en. For a moment, Harry wondered if the woman was trying to sell costumes, but that thought vanished when she introduced herself to him.

"Hello, Mr Potter," she said, after glancing quickly at his forehead. "I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of the Transfiguration Department at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd like a word with your guardians. May I come in?"

At the words Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry stiffened, left hand tightening around the door's handle, and thoughts started swirling.

Was she speaking of magic? No, this had to be a prank Dudley was pulling on Harry to get him in trouble, and yet Professor McGonagall did not appear to be the type who would busy herself with foolish errands, such as playing jokes on others. Maybe she's a paid actress, a voice whispered, there was no such thing as magic after all.

"Mr Potter."

Harry startled. It seemed Professor McGonagall did not take lightly to being ignored, and she sent Harry a look that could bring even Uncle Vernon to tears. She waited a few seconds before continuing as if to assure she had Harry's full attention.

"It's rather impolite to disregard someone who is speaking at you, don't you think?"

"Sorry," Harry apologised, and immediately added what he should have said from the beginning, "but you must be mistaken – er – Professor. I'll be joining Stonewall High in September, and I've never even heard of Hogwarts before."

This seemed to shock Professor McGonagall. "Never heard of – what do you mean, you've never heard of Hogwarts?"

"Er – sorry," apologised Harry again, taken aback by the startled shout. "But I really don't k –"

"What's taking so long?"

Harry flinched. He had forgotten about Aunt Petunia, and by the time Harry turned around, his aunt had already noticed Professor McGonagall. She stood frozen in place, mouth ajar, her face as white as the walls around her.

His aunt seemed to know who Professor McGonagall was because she stumbled back, trembling from head to toe. Professor McGonagall, in a voice cold enough to freeze the sun, asked: "Mrs Dursley, do, please, explain why James and Lily's son has no idea what Hogwarts is?"

Harry turned to face Professor McGonagall again. A knot formed in his stomach as he realized she knew his parents, and from her tone of voice, Harry began to think that maybe his parents had not been some worthless drunks who had perished in a car accident after all. Harry recalled every single unexplained incident that had happened around him. Could it be... Did that mean... Maybe Professor McGonagall could explain it to him.

"I turned my teacher's wig blue once," he said to her, ignoring Aunt Petunia's protests, "and another time I transported to the roof of my school's kitchen and, and..."

"Do breathe, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, and Harry stopped to take a huge gulp of air. "We can focus on your bouts of accidental magic at a different time. I'm afraid we've much more serious matters to discuss. Speaking of which, let's move this conversation inside. I've been out here for too long, and I'd like a cup of tea, thank you, Mrs Dursley."

Judging by Aunt Petunia's face, Harry was sure his aunt would rather send Professor McGonagall back from where she had come from, but to his surprise, she muttered a quick, "This way," turned around, and made a beeline for the kitchen. She probably was worried about what the neighbours would say, Harry concluded, as he peered at Professor McGonagall's robes again.

"Well, let's not just stand here and have the muggles grow suspicious."

Harry followed Professor McGonagall inside the house, and asked, "What exactly is a muggle, Professor? Or accidental magic?" Harry heard the door closing behind him, and let out a relieved huff that Uncle Vernon had already left for work. He had an inkling this day would have gone much, much worse otherwise.

*

Moments later, Harry found himself sitting across from Professor McGonagall as he patiently waited for her to prove that magic was real. Harry had concluded earlier that he could do magic, but ten years under the Dursleys' roof could shake even the strongest believer. His doubts as to whether Professor McGonagall had been telling the truth, however, were easily dismissed when she transformed herself into a cat. An actual cat.

"Could I turn into a cat too?" he asked, leaning forward in excitement.

Professor McGonagall turned back into a human, smiled briefly, and said, "Maybe when you're a bit older, Mr Potter. It's quite a difficult endeavour for one to become an animagus, and you've yet to learn the basics."

After that, she told Harry the truth behind his parents' death. How a wizard named Voldemort – what a strange name Harry had thought – had murdered them ten years ago. He was shocked to the core, but also furious when it was revealed that Aunt Petunia had known everything.

It was then that Professor McGonagall made her displeasure with the Dursleys known. "I told Albus you were the worst muggles I'd ever encountered, and it pains me to see things haven't changed." Her eyes travelled back and forth from Harry to Dudley, and he knew what she noted. It was easy to realize that he and his cousin were treated differently at his relatives' home.

Well, it was for someone not as stupid as Dudley, Harry thought, when Dudley saw fit to throw one of his temper tantrums right in front of someone like Professor McGonagall.

"But m-m-mum," Dudley fake-sobbed, when Aunt Petunia refused to serve him more breakfast. "I'm still… still hu-hungry. Make her… make her l-l-leave."

For the first time, Aunt Petunia was forced to reprimand her Dinky Duddydums into silence. Dudley, however, did not put a stop to his whining until Professor McGonagall, with a wave of her wand, sealed his lips shut.

She completely ignored Aunt Petunia's shrieks of alarm and handed Harry a letter. It informed Harry of his admittance to Hogwarts. Various questions formed inside his head, but Harry ended up only asking, "An owl? Do wizards really use owls, Professor?"

"Indeed, they do, Mr Potter. Magical owls have a great sense of direction, the kind a wizard would dream of recreating and are therefore used for mailing purposes. They also make quite good pets. Hogwarts possesses an owlery for the staff and the students. If you would like your own owl, we could stop by Eeylops Owl Emporium."

Shortly afterwards, Professor McGonagall revealed that Harry had survived the same curse that had killed his parents. A stunned Harry stuttered, "B-b-but I don't even know – er – how did I survive?"

"That's a question we all would like to know, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall said, after placing her empty cup of tea on the table. "Nobody knows, nobody except the Headmaster." She must have caught Harry opening his mouth because she quickly added, "Albus would welcome any questions you might have, Mr Potter."

Harry touched his forehead right above his scar. "You were looking at my scar when we met, weren't you, Professor?"

"Yes. All wizards and witches know about that scar of yours. It's the result of the attack on your person by You-Know-Who."

Harry removed his hand from his forehead and sighed. He had a funny feeling that the scar would soon be the least favourite feature of his body.

"Normally," Professor McGonagall said, changing the subject, "your acceptance letters would've been owled to you, seeing as you were expected to know about your history, Mr Potter. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, however, it was decided that your reintroduction to the Magical World would be under the guidance of one of the staff members."

"Unforeseen circumstances," repeated Harry. Professor McGonagall had ceased talking, probably because she had recalled why Harry had known nothing about his magic and sent once again a frosty glare towards his aunt.

"You-Know-Who is back."

The kitchen fell into silence. Even Dudley, who had been making muffled noises behind his sealed lips, became stiff as a statue. A shaky "What?" left Harry's lips, and at the same time, Aunt Petunia barked, "Back? What's that supposed to mean? The letter said he had vanished the night she was killed." Aunt Petunia stopped, took her arms off of Dudley, straightened up, brushed invisible dust from her peach-coloured dress, took a deep breath to compose herself, and finally in a pompous voice demanded, "Explain yourself."

On a closer look, Harry noticed that Aunt Petunia was trembling. She had probably reached the same conclusion as him. Voldemort would come once more after Harry to finish what he had started, and they were all in grave danger. He too focused on Professor McGonagall when the latter started to speak.

"Last term, Hogwarts was guarding a valuable, magical item known as the Philosopher's Stone. Various members of the staff were involved in its protection, including myself. Unfortunately, one of them was possessed by You-Know-Who last summer, and managed to steal the stone before we could stop him." Professor McGonagall stopped, took a breath, and continued, "The Stone has great powers. It can be used to produce the Elixir of Life which earns the user the ability to prolong his lifespan, or to regain a corporeal form in You-Know-Who's case."

"Why wasn't the stone hidden in a safer place?"

"I assure you, Mrs Dursley, that there is no safer place than Hogwarts in the whole country."

Aunt Petunia snorted, "Yet, you failed." She glanced at Harry, but soon returned her attention to Professor McGonagall. "You can tell your headmaster that the boy has overstayed his lodging. I've my son to think about. I cannot put his life or that of my husband at risk for a boy I never wanted to raise in the first place."

Professor McGonagall maintained eye contact with Aunt Petunia, and merely said, "Albus told me you'd say that." At the mention of the name, Aunt Petunia lost all of her fake composure and sank back into the chair next to Dudley; unperturbed, the Professor continued, "He also said to remind you to remember your last."

Aunt Petunia could not grow any paler. Dudley looked at his mother in confusion, but unable to speak he just sent Harry a nasty look.

"What does that even mean?" Harry asked, looking at his aunt.

" The b – I mean, he can stay," whispered Aunt Petunia, not bothering to explain any further. "What now?"

Harry wanted more answers but had no opportunity to question his aunt. Professor McGonagall was talking again, "For reasons unknown to us, You-Know-Who is keeping a low profile, so there is no imminent danger towards your family, Mrs Dursley. Not to mention, as Albus might have explained, as long as Harry lives here you are safe from any threat. This protection will, of course, end when Mr Potter reaches maturity, but that's years away. When the time comes, we will make sure your family is safe."

"Escorting Harry to his trip to Diagon Alley is just a precarious measure. We don't expect an attack, but his safety is our priority. At first, we thought of sending out a group of aurors, but we believed it would attract too much attention. Filius, the Charm's Professor at Hogwarts, suggested that one of the staff could escort Harry together with a muggle-born student. Any question so far?"

Only a million, Harry wanted to say, but he ended asking, "What's a muggle-born?"

"A muggle-born is a wizard or a witch born to non-magical parents, Mr Potter."

"So this person you're talking about, Professor, is he like me – I mean did he also not know of his magic because you said he had non-magical parents, and that means they couldn't have known, right?"

"Yes, indeed, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall, "and as such, each one of them needs guidance when introduced to our world. Colin Creevey, the boy we're meeting later, also had no idea he was a wizard until this morning. He, like you, was rather – em – excited."

"And his family had no problem with me joining them?"

"No," said Professor McGonagall. "They offered before I made my request. In fact, Mr Creevey is quite excited to meet you. Said he'd never talked to anyone who could understand him."

"That'd be nice," Harry said. "Yeah, a friend would be nice."

Harry had one more pressing question. "How am I going to pay for everything, Professor?" He flushed and refused to turn towards Aunt Petunia, who at the mention of money snorted once again. "I've no money."

"Money will be no problem for you, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall said, ignoring his aunt's pointed stare. "Now, I'm assuming you accept our offer to become one of our students, Mr Potter."

"I'd rather not have my head stuffed down a toilet, Professor, so, yes please."

*

"Brace yourself, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall said when Stan Shunpike signalled Ern, the driver of the Knight Bus, to go.

There was an enormous bang, and Harry was sure he would have toppled flat on his bed if Professor McGonagall had not applied a Sticking Charm on him. Sitting across from him, she was frowning at the front heading of what Harry assumed was the magical newspaper. He had caught a brief look at it, when Stan had passed the paper over to Professor McGonagall but had not been able to read the whole thing.

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, demoted from..._

Whatever position Dumbledore had lost, it must have been important because Professor McGonagall grew angrier the longer she read. Finally, she must have reached her limit because she closed the paper abruptly, tossed it to Stan, and turned to face Harry. "Would you like some hot chocolate, Mr Potter?"

"No, thank you, Professor McGonagall. I don't think I could stomach anything right now."

Stan reopened the newspaper and Harry finally caught the entire headline.

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, demoted from his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot._

"What's Wizengamot?" he asked.

"Brainless sheep," answered Professor McGonagall, "who spend their time lolling around, and don't see the wolf coming until it's too late."

"Are you calling Dumbledore a sheep, Professor," Stan said, in a strong Cockney accent.

"I thought you were able to read, Shunpike," hit back Professor McGonagall, pointing at the newspaper. "Cannot be a sheep if you get demoted."

"Why was the Headmaster demoted, Professor?"

"Because he spoke the truth, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall, before Stan could have a say in. "Now, I believe we'll be there in a jiffy, right, Shunpike?"

Half a minute later, the Knight Bus halted right in front of a small, dingy pub.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Stan said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited by my amazing beta reader who can be found on AO3 under the username Endless_Dream. They're also writing a fic of their own. It's called Divided Loyalties. Make sure to check it out, if you like to read fanfiction about the Fantastic Beasts movies. It's definitely worth the while!
> 
> Here's the link:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491933/chapters/56328097

Colin Creevey yelped and almost dropped his chocolate ice-cream on the ground when a bang, loud enough to be heard on the moon, resounded throughout the whole street. He blinked. _Where had that bus come from?_

His father chuckled, "What is it now, son?"

Colin could only stare at his father in disbelief. He was still reading _The Sun_ as if nothing had happened.

"The bus, Dad," Colin groaned.

His father lowered the newspaper and stared at him in confusion. "What bus are you talking about, Colin?"

"What bu – Dad, it's right there in front of us. Don't you see it? It's at least ten times bigger than your van, and don't tell me you didn't hear how l –"

Right as Colin was about to say "loud", another bang filled out the street, and in a blink of an eye, the bus vanished around the corner.

"What? Where did it – wait, is that Professor McGonagall?"

Luckily, it seemed even his father had noted the presence of the woman who had changed Colin's life forever. A part of him had yet to believe it was all real. That he, annoying and chirpy Colin, was a wizard. The doubts, however, died when he reminded himself of all the strange, little incidents that had occurred around him, like that time he had changed milk to hot chocolate, or when he had ignited some fireworks with only a thought.

"Ah, he'll fit right in," his father said suddenly. "He's almost as small as you, Colin."

It was then that Colin noticed a figure standing next to Professor McGonagall. It could only be Harry Potter, another wizard, just like Colin.

When Professor McGonagall had told them of Harry's situation, about how an evil wizard was after Harry, his father had offered their help. That was why Harry would be joining the two of them while they shopped for school equipment in a place unknown to non-magical people. Its location was a mystery to Colin, but Professor McGonagall had clarified that its entrance was here, on Charing Cross Road.

Colin caught Harry's eyes and was hit by a rush of excitement. His father must have caught on because he said, "Well, let's go then."

That was all Colin needed to hear. He checked the road for any coming cars and crossed it while enthusiastically calling, "Professor McGonagall, Professor McGonagall, here."

"Mr Creevey," Professor McGonagall said. "While your enthusiasm is admirable, please do recall we're in public and unwanted attention is the last thing we want today."

Colin was about to point out that her unusual robes had already gained them a few strange looks by the passers-by, but his father interrupted before he could.

"Ah, forgive my son, Professor." His father beamed. "He hasn't been able to sit still since you left – not that he ever does, but he's been jumpier than usual. I think the whole magic thing is going a bit to his head."

Colin let out an indignant squeal, but his father continued talking, "Why, on our way here, he's already seen three ghosts, a flying horse, and even a dragon. Apparently, I can't notice them because I'm not a wizard, and just a few moments ago he saw an invisible bus. I certainly didn't see one, did you?"

"But there really was a bus, Dad." Colin turned pleading eyes towards the boy near him. "You saw it too, right?"

Harry nodded. "The Knight Bus. It's how Professor McGonagall and I came here. Did you really see a dragon?"

"Of course he didn't, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall with a huff. "We don't allow magical creatures to roam free for all muggles to see, and ghosts have much better things to do than to haunt muggles."

"So, invisible busses, huh," his father said. "Not brooms or flying carpets?"

Professor McGonagall did not reply. She looked around warily and said, "We'd better continue this conversation inside before we breach the Statute of Secrecy."

"What's that?" his father asked immediately but refrained from asking more at the look he received. "All right, after you then, Professor McGonagall."

"I'm Harry," said Harry shyly, as they made their way towards Leaky Cauldron.

Colin beamed. "And I'm Colin. A pleasure to meet you, Harry."

*

Colin, Harry found, was the most easily excited person he had ever met. As soon as they had stepped into Diagon Alley, Colin had started gasping and awing at every little thing. More often than not, he would grasp Harry's hand and point, "Harry, look at that broom, Harry," or "Do you see the owls, Harry?" and "Whoa, what are those?"

Harry was equal parts terrified and glad that Colin already had decided they would be the best of friends after only ten minutes of interaction. But as they were leaving Ollivanders, Harry found that he did not mind at all.

Mr Ollivander had certainly left an impression on Harry, and it had not been quite a good one. Firstly, he had seemed to know who Harry was even though Professor McGonagall had changed his looks and hidden his scar right before they had left Privet Drive. Then, there was what happened when Harry's wand had chosen him.

"How peculiar," said Mr Ollivander, as sparkles of gold fired from Harry's wand, his eyes fixed on Harry's forehead.

"What's peculiar, Mr Ollivander?" Colin and Harry asked simultaneously.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter." Mr Ollivander said. "The core of your wand came from the same phoenix who's given only one other – just one other tail feather. I sold that wand to him more than fifty years ago."

Professor McGonagall frowned and said, "Don't tell me – not You-Know-Who," right after Mr Creevey asked, "Him? Who's him?"

"I'm afraid so, Minerva. Your wand's brother, Mr Potter, belongs to the wizard who gave you that scar."

Finally, as if all that had not been enough, Mr Ollivander added, "Hmm... I think great things are to be expected from you, Mr Potter, because He Who Must Not Be Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

At that point Colin chirped in. "Harry can be whatever he wants, Mr Ollivander. If he wants to be great, then I'm sure he's going to be – not that he needs to, mind you. He's pretty amazing already. It's my turn now, right? Do you think mine will be peculiar too, huh, Harry?"

Needless to say, Harry felt such warmth at Colin's honest response that he was still smiling when they left the shop.

"We're almost done," Professor McGonagall said, outside Ollivanders. "We only need their uniforms and school books. Right this way, follow me."

Fortunately, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was deserted of any customers when Harry and the others reached the shop, so the uniforms took little time to prepare.

"These robes are pretty neat, huh, Harry," Colin said cheerfully, as the shop assistant handed them their uniforms. "Makes me feel like I'm really a wizard."

Harry smiled. "The pointed hat too."

They both thanked Madam Malkin for her work and made their way towards the shop's main area, where Mr Creevey and Professor McGonagall were waiting.

Near a rack full of fancy purple robes, a plump woman and her two daughters were having a discussion.

"You don't need another set of robes, Astoria," Harry heard the woman say to the smaller one.

Little Astoria, a tiny, brown-haired girl with big, blue-eyes, tilted her head up and bravely said, "Father said I could, right, Daphne?"

Their mother must have caught Harry staring because she shushed both of their daughters and ushered them to the back of the store, but not before sending Harry a repulsed look.

"What was all that about?" Mr Creevey asked, confused.

Professor McGonagall put away Colin and Harry's uniforms before answering, "Mrs Greengrass belongs to a certain group of people who believe that a wizard's worth should be measured by the pureness of their blood."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, as they neared the shop's entrance. "But did you say blood?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "Some wizards put a lot of importance on someone's magical background. They think muggle-borns have tainted blood and that they shouldn't be part of our society."

"You don't have to worry about your son, Mr Creevey," she quickly added, seeing the worried look Mr Creevey sent Colin. "Most of the wizards nowadays have at least one muggle grandparent in their family tree – half-blood is what they're called."

"It smells like a whole bin of rubbish to me," Mr Creevey said, as he carefully wheeled the trolley holding both his and Colin's trunks down the stony steps of Madam Malkin's.

Harry could not agree more. Mrs Greengrass had given him the same look his aunt and uncle reserved only for Harry. At that moment, Harry decided that he had no intention of ever associating himself with anyone who held the same beliefs as Mrs Greengrass. He already had Colin anyway.

"There's only one way of dealing with people like that," Mr Creevey said. "With a kick on their arse to pull them from their high horse."

"Mr Creevey," snapped Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, I forgot the most important thing." Mr Creevey winked at Colin and Harry. "Make sure nobody sees you, especially not your professors."

"Mr Creevey, that's enough. And you two can stop laughing."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Colin said, amidst giggles.

On their way to the bookshop, Professor McGonagall asked, "Are you both sure you don't need a pet?"

"Pretty sure," Colin said. "My brother Dennis says I have a death touch because every pet I've ever had has died somehow. I'd rather not risk it."

"I don't really like cats." A knot twisted inside Harry's stomach, as he softly added, "and I don't really need an owl. I can always use the school's owlery if I ever need to, anyway."

"Of course you'll need an owl, Harry," said Colin. "How else are you going to send me letters during the summer?"

"He'll send them the same way the rest of us do it, son. Through the post office."

"Dad, we're wizards now. We're supposed to use owls. Owls are much cooler than the postman, you know?"

"I guess you're right. Well, what do you say, Harry? Shall we go buy you an owl?"

By the time they finished with their shopping, the afternoon had come upon them. As decided, Harry had bought a pet owl, a small horned one who was hooting happily inside its cage. Soon, they were passing through the brick wall into the Leaky Cauldron, and as they walked through the front of the pub, Harry noted the unease that had filled the room. Everyone was talking to someone. Some were whispering, others were practically shouting.

"Can you believe it?"

"Merlin's Beard, as if things weren't bad enough already."

"Maybe Dumbledore's telling the truth, and You-Know-Who is really back."

Nearby a discussion was taking place between three friends.

"How did he even do it?" asked one of the girls.

"With Dark Magic, my dear Abigail, " said the tall, handsome man. "What else would you expect from one of You-Know-Who's dogs?"

"Matthew, not so loud," reprimanded the other girl. "What if someone hears you?"

"What if they do? It's not like I'm afraid at the likes of Lucius Malfoy."

Professor McGonagall led them straight to the barman, Tom, who was talking to an old woman with flaming-red hair.

"What is all this ruckus about, Tom?" she asked.

"Grave news, Professor," Tom said with a grim voice as he filled a glass with what Harry believed to be sherry. "Word just got out. Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited by my amazing beta reader who can be found on AO3 under the username Endless_Dream. They're also writing a fic of their own. It's called Divided Loyalties. Make sure to check it out, if you like to read fanfiction about the Fantastic Beasts movies. It's definitely worth the while!
> 
> Here's the link to the story:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491933/chapters/56328097

"Where in Merlin's Name is Mad-Eye?" Louise asked, her brown eyes straying towards the cuckoo clock hanging nearby Fawkes' perch.

Every time the clock's cuckoos filled the room, it never failed to bring joy to Albus' heart. Nicolas had gifted it to him when news of Armando's retirement had reached Paris.

"This office is too bland for someone like you, Albus," Nicolas had said, as he had handed Albus the wrapped present. "Go on, open it."

His musings were interrupted by the doors opening with a blast. Alastor did enjoy making people jump. It keeps them floating, he always said.

"Sorry, I'm late," said Alastor as he limped inside. He joined them at the table and took out his wand, flickering it to shut the doors, then grunted, "My new trainee is being a pest again."

"Don't lie, Mad-Eye," Louise laughed wholeheartedly. "The whole office knows Nymphadora is your favourite."

"I'd like her more if she stopped tripping all over the place," said Alastor.

"Tonks would have your head if she ever found out you call her Nymphadora when she's not there to hex you, Louise."

"Kingsley," said Louise, in a tone Albus recognized, "if it took only a mere trainee to scare me, I'd have ceased being an auror long ago."

Albus could predict a forthcoming argument. Normally, he would let it happen; he had always enjoyed a banter or two among friends, but alas they had more pressing matters to talk about, and as such the situation required his interference.

"Ah, yes, young Nymphadora," he said. "I do have a few lovely memories of her student days."

On his far right, Minerva pushed her glasses a bit further up her nose before huffing.

"You would," she said curtly. "You were always amused each time Miss Tonks impersonated you, Albus."

"Quite ingenious, that girl," popped in Filius, from the other side of the table. "We'd have never caught on if she hadn't tripped and started cursing as much as Minerva does when she drinks a pint too much."

"Filius," Minerva lamented, while laughter enveloped the office.

Albus smiled. Maybe stopping a banter from breaking out was an impossible task even for him. He could, however, count on Severus to do it for him.

"I do think we have more important things to discuss," Severus said, "than to tell tales about one of Sprout's ex-students."

"Severus is right," Albus added regrettably. "Kingsley, any sightings of Sirius Black nearby Little Whinging?"

"None so far, Headmaster," Kingsley reported.

"Good, that's good." Albus smiled, relieved. "And how does young Harry fare? Has he suffered from more nightmares?"

"Yes," Louise said. "The poor boy woke up screaming his magic out last night. Didn't get a wisp of sleep afterwards. I do wish you'd let me hex that uncle of his at least once. It would serve that foul muggle right."

Louise took a long breath before continuing, "I still fly into a rage when I think of how they didn't even celebrate his eleventh birthday last week. No, they locked him in his bedroom all day while the other three had a dinner party with some rich muggle-couple – and yes, Mad-Eye, I did my research, no need to send me that look. Poor Harry sang Happy Birthday to himself right before going to bed."

"That boy can hold his own," Mundungus said, followed by few heads nodding in agreement. "Blackmailed his uncle he'd hex them, as if it was nothing."

"You did tell him about the Trace, didn't you, Minerva?" Emmeline asked curiously, a few seats away from Louise.

"Of course, I did," Minerva huffed.

"Oh, no worries about him breaking the law," Mundungus said. "The boy was bluffing. Quite smart, I'd say. His relatives aren't giving him as much trouble as before."

"Anything to add, Snape?" asked Louise, when Severus snorted.

"Nothing that would concern you."

"And here I was hoping you finally had some news for us."

Severus refrained from retaliating. As a matter of fact, the others too fell silent as it dawned upon them that they had no reliable predictions regarding Tom's next machinations. It worried Albus that Tom had yet to contact any of his loyal followers.

"For Merlin's pants," bellowed Emmeline. "It's been two months already. What is he planning?"

"Nothing good. I'd bet my money on it."

"Please, don't. Your wife would kill you, Dedalus," Hestia said exasperated. "Any ideas, Albus?"

Albus gazed at that morning's issue of _The Daily Prophet_. A girl barely ten years of age smiled and waved at the person behind the camera. She was petite. Her blue eyes showed a fighting spirit, and Albus' heart filled with sorrow. Astoria Greengrass had been abducted the same day Minerva had accompanied Harry Potter to Diagon Alley.

"It's only a guess," Albus said in a grim voice, "but I think Tom is involved with the disappearance of Astoria Greengrass."

A few gasps resounded all over the office. The first to speak was Hestia. "Albus, what would You-Know-Who want from a ten-year-old girl?"

"That I don't know," Albus said. "However, if Tom truly abducted young Astoria, it's needless to say that she might have already passed away."

As another gloomy silence fell, Albus turned towards Alastor, "Try to learn as much as you can regarding her case. It might lead us to Tom."

"I'll have a talk with Amelia," said Alastor. "See if she can convince Riggs to let me on the case."

"Thank you, Alastor."

By the time their meeting ended, the sun had already set. As the others left the office, Albus asked Louise and Kingsley for a bit more of their time.

"On September the first, I want you to escort young Harry to King's Cross," he told them, chuckling at the joy that appeared on Louise's face.

"Gladly, Headmaster," Louise said.

"Good. I've already told Minerva to owl him a letter. He's going to ask you what my favourite sweet is, so make sure to respond with 'Sherbet Lemon'."

That stole a laugh from Louise, who reached to take a few sherbet lemons from the bowl atop his desk. As she unwrapped one of them, she said, "Have you found someone for the job yet, Albus? Madam Undersecretary is already babbling around about her upcoming position as a member of your staff. Merlin himself wouldn't be enough for Hogwarts if that happened."

"I was able to reach young Remus Lupin. He accepted the position as our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the upcoming term. He should return soon enough to join in on our next meeting."

"That's great," Louise said, with a glint in her eyes. "I'll make sure to let our dear Madam Undersecretary know."

*

Time flew, and before Harry knew it, he found himself inside one of the empty compartments of the Hogwarts Express. Auror Shacklebolt and his partner Auror Willis, who had escorted Harry to King's Cross station, were stationed outside, keeping watch until the train departed.

Harry glanced at the massive clock hanging on one of the many brick pillars of the platform. It read nine thirty. Harry sighed. Colin would not be there for some time.

"Dad has to deliver some orders tomorrow," he had said over the phone. "We won't be able to depart for King's Cross station until ten. Keep a place warm for me, all right, Harry?"

Colin had been the whole reason why his last month at the Dursleys had been almost enjoyable. Colin insisted that they had to talk to each other at least three times a week. Of course, he also insisted on Harry owling him as much as possible.

"That's why you bought Edred, Harry," Colin had said. "My brother adores him anyway."

His frequent calls, however, had pushed Uncle Vernon to stop ignoring Harry. On Colin's fifth call, his uncle grabbed the phone from Harry's hand and shouted, "Stop calling this number!"

After that, Uncle Vernon immediately ended the call, yet not two minutes later the phone rang once again. However, this time it wasn't Colin, but Mr Creevey. Harry could not hear what Mr Creevey told Uncle Vernon, but by the end of the conversation his uncle turned as pale as the pictured ghosts that Harry had seen in _Hogwarts: A History._

Things had quieted down after that. They had even improved when the dinner party with the Masons had ended successfully. Aunt Petunia had even given Harry some leftover cake the next day. Then the nightmares had begun.

They happened twice or thrice a week, and each time Harry woke up in the middle of the night, screaming and clutching his aching forehead with both of his hands. Harry had yet to remember what he dreamt about, and truth be told, a part of him did not even want to.

Obviously, Uncle Vernon had not appreciated being awoken in the middle of the night, and had nearly sent Harry back to his cupboard. An annoyed Harry had to blackmail his uncle to be left alone.

Harry glanced at the clock again. Barely ten minutes had passed since his last check. To pass the time, he busied himself with observing the strangers before him.

Straight ahead, a father was saying goodbye to his son. The son could have been his father's twin. They had the same curly brown hair, the same dark eyes, and the same gentle smile etched on their faces. A familiar pang formed in Harry's stomach, as he witnessed them embracing each other warmly.

"Don't forget to drop by Poppy as soon as you can," the father said, as he released his son from the hug.

"I won't, father."

"And remember, you're not allowed to experiment with Healing Magic until – "

"Until I pass my O.W.L exams, I know."

"And –"

"No brewing beyond my current level," finished the son with a mischievous smile that told Harry this conversation had happened many times.

The father glanced at the clock, frowned and let out a huff of annoyance. "I have to go before I'm late for my rounds. I'll see you at Christmas. Don't forget to owl me tomorrow."

"I won't."

They embraced a second time, and then the father left. Harry kept watching and almost toppled to the ground when the smiling boy turned and caught Harry staring. The boy waved at Harry, erupting in laughter when he saw Harry blush. Harry lost sight of him when the boy embarked on the train but soon heard a knock. The boy smiled again at Harry and said, "I'm Graham Pritchard. Mind if I sit with you?"

Harry nodded shyly. After he had helped Graham with his trunk, the both of them sat down across from each other. Harry felt a sudden need to apologise for overhearing Graham's talk with his father.

"Sorry," Harry said in a small voice, as he turned his head back towards the platform, "for staring, I mean."

"Oh, don't worry," Graham said. "I'm used to it. Are you a fan of my father's work?"

Harry blinked, staring at Graham in confusion, and asked, "Your father's?"

"I'm taking that as a big no," Graham chuckled. "Although now I really don't know why you were staring at us – er – wait, I didn't even ask for your name. How rude of me. Let's do this again, but properly this time."

Graham raised his right hand, smiled again and said, "Hi. My name is Graham Pritchard."

Harry gladly shook the offered hand and answered, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Graham's eyes widened, and his smile froze for two seconds before it grew bigger than before.

"Harry Potter," Graham said, his eyes darting towards Harry's forehead. "And here I was thinking you wanted my father's autograph."

"Is your father famous?" Harry asked, trying to divert the attention away from him.

"Yes," Graham said, pride evident in his smile. "He's the best Healer of St. Mungo's, and he even worked as a mediwizard during the first war against You-Know-Who. He saved a lot of lives, people tell me. Not to mention he's invented a lot of spells, and his work on Healer Magic practically revolutionized the field. I'm really glad he's my father."

Graham paused, reached inside one of his pockets, and pulled out some wrapped sweets. "Here, have one. How come you've never heard of my father, anyway? Not to brag, but I don't think I've ever met another wizard who didn't know his name."

Harry's chest tightened, and his face grew hot. He swallowed and proceeded to explain his situation to Graham, who lost his easy smile the longer Harry talked.

"... and they never told you anything. That's rough, Harry. But you know, I'll gladly help you if you don't understand something. So make sure to ask me, okay?"

Harry could only nod in gratitude. Graham also seemed to have realized that Harry did not want to talk about his home life further, because he offered to teach Harry how to play a game called Exploding Snap. Predictably, Harry lost every single round.

Harry was having so much fun with Graham that he did not notice Colin's arrival until a shout outside the window made him flinch in surprise.

"Harry, come outside," Colin said, waving Harry over. "Dennis wants to meet you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited by my amazing beta reader who can be found on AO3 under the username Endless_Dream. They're also writing a fic of their own. It's called Divided Loyalties. Make sure to check it out, if you like to read fanfiction about the Fantastic Beasts movies. It's definitely worth the while!
> 
> Here's the link to the story:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491933/chapters/56328097

**Chapter 4**

"Let's sit down," Harry said to Colin, as platform nine and three-quarters vanished from their sight.

Colin took the seat to Graham's left, sending a curious glance at his parchment paper. Graham had been writing while Harry and Colin waved goodbye to Dennis and Mr Creevey.

As Harry sat down across the other two, he saw Colin edging even closer to Graham. A look of confusion passed through Colin's face, right before he asked, "What language is that?"

"Ancient Greek."

"Ancient Greek?" echoed Colin and Harry loudly.

Harry leaned forward to get a look at the paper. An uneasy feeling crept through him as black, strange symbols came into focus. A moment of hesitance followed, before Harry softly asked, "Graham? Are we – er – I mean, do we need Ancient Greek for school?"

"You think so, Harry?" Colin wondered. "But wait. Wouldn't Professor McGonagall have told us? I don't think we'll need Ancient Greek. Right, Graham?"

Graham nodded and sent an assuring smile towards Harry. "Colin's right. Father started teaching me when I was three." A small laugh escaped Graham. "Father learnt the language out of spite, after his superior took credit for his work on the refinement of the Blood-Replenishing Potion – it cures blood loss. He's been driving his entire staff mad for years because nobody else can read his notes."

"Your dad's a healer," Colin said, as he brazenly took a few pictures of Graham's parchment. "That's what Harry said. What does he do?"

"Heal, I'd suppose," Harry said flatly. He made a mental note to ask Colin for those pictures later. Perhaps Mr Creevey had been onto something when he had bought Colin a camera.

"Healers are qualified individuals who use Healing Magic to tend to the sick and the injured," explained Graham dully, as if that sentence had been engraved in his brain.

"Has your dad taught you any? Would you show us?"

"No," said Graham in a tone that left no room for disagreement. "Healing Magic is extremely difficult to control. There's a good reason why it's not offered as an elective at Hogwarts. It's easy to mess up. There's this guy, he's a famous author, Gilderoy Lockhart. He froze his assistant's entire left leg a couple weeks ago when he botched a simple Episkey. It took Father three weeks to revert the damage."

"Wow. Really? He froze a whole leg? And it was healed? That's amazing. You can do a lot of amazing stuff with magic, huh."

"That's not what Graham was trying to point out, Colin." Harry smiled, half-exasperated, half-fond.

The compartment fell into a brief silence. Harry turned to look out of the window. He had never been to London, and the city landmarks were a welcoming distraction from the cold anxiety growing inside him.

"Harry," Graham said, breaking the silence. "You don't have to worry about being behind others. Hogwarts accepts a significant number of muggle-borns each year, and most of them adjust quickly."

Harry wanted to ask Graham how he had known what had been troubling him, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Maybe Harry had been more obvious than he had realised, or maybe Graham was just observant.

After Colin yelled, "Enter", the door slid open.

A small girl with flaming red hair emerged before them. She took a glance around the compartment before asking in a clear, confident voice, "Do you mind if my brother and I join you? We were late – almost missed the clock – and haven't found any free seats yet."

Harry looked at the other two. Colin and Graham were already nodding. In response, the girl smiled broadly and said a quick thank you, spinning around and vanishing down the hall.

"Harry, what was the Disarming Charm called again?" Colin asked, all of a sudden.

"The Expelliarmus," answered Harry, baffled.

"And what's the difference between a Counter-Jinx and an Anti-Jinx again?"

"A Counter-Jinx ends a jinx. An Anti-Jinx prevents it. Didn't we review _The Basics of Defense Against the Dark Arts_ last Sunday?"

"Why are you worrying then?" Colin turned towards Graham and said, "He's read that book at least one hundred times now. He knows it by heart, and there he goes and worries about not being good enough." Colin flashed Harry a blinding smile. "You'll do amazing, Harry, I know it. Besides, Graham here'll help you, won't you, Graham?"

"I'll help you too, Colin."

All the built up tension flew out of Harry's body. He released a breath he had been holding in and felt a tingling warmth settling in his heart. Colin knew exactly what to say to Harry to make him feel better.

When Harry thanked his friend, Colin just shook his head and muttered, "Honestly, Harry." Then he looked up, and his eyebrows squished together.

"Harry, I've been meaning to ask," Colin said, as he pointed at the empty cage next to Harry's trunk. "Where's Edred?"

A choked laugh escaped from Graham. He shot Harry an incredulous look. "Edred? As in Prince Edred the Incorrigible?"

Harry groaned. "My pet owl has refused to answer to anything else ever since I made the mistake of reading him a passage about Prince Edred."

"Owls can be picky with their names," Graham said while he rolled his parchment paper. "Did you send him ahead?"

"Yes. He doesn't like staying inside his cage for long periods of time."

"I like the name," Colin said, but smiled sheepishly at the looks he received from both Graham and Harry. "Anyway, aren't you two excited? About Hogwarts? How long until we arrive, do you think?"

"Not until supper," someone new commented. "It's going to be a long journey before we get there."

The speaker was a boy who could only be the brother of the girl they had met before. Firstly, he resembled his sister greatly, with the same flaming-red hair and freckled complexion. And secondly, because the girl popped right behind him.

"I'm Ron. Ron Weasley," Ron said, as he helped his sister lift her trunk into the rack above Harry's head. "This is my sister, Ginny."

"I can introduce myself, Ron," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at her brother. She sat to Harry's right. "Sorry, I didn't before. I was in a bit of hurry."

"It's okay," said Colin, as he made some space for Ron. "I'm Colin Creevey and this is Graham – er –"

"Pritchard," Graham finished, moving his writing supplies back to his own trunk.

A strange look passed over Ron's face. "Any relation to Archibald Pritchard?"

"My father." Graham closed his trunk and sat down again. "You sound like you've met him."

"Once," Ron said. "Last Hallowe'en after – anyway he helped me figure out a lot of stuff. I'm really grateful to him. You've got a great dad."

"I know," said Graham, before pointing at Harry, "This is Harry."

Both siblings' eyes shot towards his forehead. Resigned, Harry lifted the bits of hair covering his scar, but still startled at the squeal that left Ginny Weasley's lips. Her face became a deep red that rivaled her hair in color. She hurriedly moved as far from Harry as the seats allowed, refusing to meet his gaze.

A lump formed at the back of Harry's throat, which grew bigger when Ron Weasley said, "Blimey, you're Harry Potter. Wait until I tell the others. They're never going to believe me."

"Wait," Colin interjected. "How did you know Harry's name?"

All eyes, even Ginny's, focused on Colin. Ron especially was looking at Colin as if he had asked if the earth was flat. "Mate," he said. "You do know Harry there defeated You-Know-Who, right?"

"You-Know-Who, isn't that the wizard who's after you, Harry? That's what Professor McGonagall said. And you said his name was Voldemort, right, Harry?"

Three gasps followed Colin's mention of Voldemort's name.

"Don't speak his name so freely, Colin," Graham scolded gently. "People call him by his moniker for a reason."

"Never mind that," Colin shot back. "You still haven't explained that thing about Harry."

"Mate," Ron said, "I just told you. Harry's pretty famous. He destroyed You-Know-Who as a baby. People take him for a hero and even call him 'The Boy-Who-Lived'. Everyone knows who Harry Potter is. There are books written about him, and all that. Ginny here has – ouch, Gin, what was that for?"

Ginny had kicked Ron's left shin. She was glaring at her brother, her face still as red as before.

Was this what Harry had to expect when people realised who he was? Would Colin, who had taken picture after picture of Graham when Harry told him Graham's father was famous, change his attitude towards Harry?

"But," Colin said, "Harry was a baby. He doesn't remember anything about that night. I've asked him. How can people believe he's the one responsible for defeating You-Know-Who?"

"It's because Harry's the only one to ever survive the Killing Curse." Graham sent Harry an apologetic look before continuing, "and no one knows how. All they know is that after more than ten years of terror You-Know-Who disappeared when he failed to kill Harry. Of course, Harry'd be hailed as a hero for our society. It's not like there were any witnesses to prove the contrary."

"So, you're saying Harry's like Jesus for the Magical World?"

"That would be Merlin, Colin," Graham said, chuckling. However, he broke into full laughter when a confused Ron asked, "Jesus? What's that? Some kind of disease?"

Colin still looked baffled. He must have seen Harry's trepidation because he stood up and sat next to him. Harry glanced warily at the camera hanging from Colin's neck. He didn't need to worry because Colin gave him a quick pat on his shoulder, and said, "It's a good thing Dennis has already met you, Harry, or he would've definitely asked for some signed pictures."

After that, Colin diverted the conversation away from Harry by asking Ron about Hogwarts' four houses. Ron, Harry found out, was a Gryffindor. He also held a strong opinion about one of the other houses.

"It's Slytherin where you don't want to get into," Ron said, a small grimace appearing on his face.

"I have to agree with Ron on that one," Graham added. "Slytherin is filled to the brim with pure-blood heirs who'll scrutinize each word you'd ever say. It's bound to give anyone a headache."

"You forgot to mention that all Dark Wizards to ever attend Hogwarts have been in Slytherin."

"Don't be ridiculous," Graham shot back at Ron. "There've been Dark Wizards from every house. Take Sirius Black for example. Everyone says he's the worst of all of You-Know-Who's followers, but they tend not to mention he was a Gryffindor."

"What?" It was the first time Ginny had talked since Harry's identity was revealed. She seemed as shocked as her brother at the revelation.

"Sod off," Ron said, after a few blinks. "There's no way you're not pulling my wand right now, Pritchard. Sirius Black in Gryffindor. What a joke."

"I'm completely serious," Graham said. "My father was a couple of years before him at Hogwarts. He and his group of friends were pretty popular among the students."

Graham glanced at Harry. He must have concluded that Sirius Black was after Harry. That would explain the worry in his eyes, Harry thought.

"As long as Harry and I end up in the same house, I don't mind where I'll get into," piped in Colin. "Do you think they'll catch him? Professor McGonagall said no one else has managed to break out of Azkaban before. He must be pretty powerful."

"They're looking everywhere for him," Ron said. "The Ministry of Magic will be sending dementors to guard Hogwarts, Dad told me. They're expecting Sirius Black to make a move in because of…. I mean...Well, because they think that –"

"Sirius Black will go after me."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Dad tells me Fudge, the Minister, still refuses to believe that You-Know-Who's back. According to him, Sirius Black escaped only because he'd recalled that you go to Hogwarts this year, and that it'd be easier for Sirius Black to get to you."

"So, your father believes Dumbledore's been telling the truth?" Graham asked.

"Mate, it's Dumbledore. What reason would he have to lie about this? Of course Dad believes him. Don't tell me Mr Pritchard doesn't."

"He'd some doubts at first," Graham said. "Father thought Dumbledore had finally lost it. But those were put to rest after Sirius Black broke out of prison. No way that's a coincidence, he said."

Ron nodded in approval. "Still can't grasp he was in Gryffindor. Fred and George'll never believe me. Do any of you know what's the time? I'm starving. The trolley lady should be here soon enough, I think. Gin, you still have those sickles Mum gave us, right? I've been dying for some Chocolate Frogs."

And indeed, not ten minutes later a middle-aged woman slid their door open and kindly asked, "Anything of the trolley, dears?"

It took both Harry and Graham to make Colin stop taking pictures of the poor woman. Colin, however, continued to take photographs of all their sweets once the trolley lady had left. He only stopped after Graham promised to tell him how he could make the photographs move.

After Colin finally put the camera away, he asked Ron about what to expect of their future lessons.

"It's Snape you have to watch out for," Ron said as he unwrapped a Chocolate Frog. "He's the Potion Master, and hates anyone who is not a Slytherin. Once, he docked points from Gryffindor because my best mate, Neville Longbottom, dared to breathe too loudly in his presence." Here Ron paused and took a huge bite of his Chocolate Frog. "Also, make sure to read ahead. He shot question after question at Neville on our first day, and Gryffindor lost five points for each question he got wrong. He's a total git."

Graham looked almost miserable. "I love potions."

"You won't love them for much longer, mate. Not as long as Snape is around anyway."

"What about flying?" asked Colin, enthusiastically. "Professor McGonagall told us we'll take a flying class this year."

At that, Ron, Ginny and Graham perked up. "Flying is the best class you'll ever have," Ron beamed. "Madam Hooch may be strict, but she's fair. She never treats Slytherins better than the rest of us."

Ginny popped in, suddenly excited, and not looking as flushed as before, "I'm really looking forward to it. Mum never lets me fly back home. Says I'm too delicate, or something. Don't tell her, but Ron here took me flying a couple times this summer when she was being a bit suffocating."

"It's not like you hadn't gone flying before. Don't think I didn't notice that you were a bit too comfortable on the broom for it to be your first time, Gin."

"I've been borrowing your brooms ever since I was six."

"Six? And Mum's never caught you? If it'd been me…"

"Mum still thinks I have tea parties with my teddy bears, Ron."

Laughter followed Ginny's admission. Harry was glad Colin had enquired about flying, if only because Ginny seemed to have lost some of her timidity. She even challenged them to a game of Exploding Snap, declaring boldly that she would be the winner.

Time passed quickly among friends. Sooner than Harry would have thought, the sun had already begun to set.

It was during that hour of the day that Ron stood up. He passed his cards to Graham and stretched his body, turning towards his sister. "Gin, I'm going to look for Neville. I'll be back before we reach Hogwarts. If Fred and George come to find you, don't let them bully you."

"Ron, I can take care of myself."

Ron smiled at his sister, and with a slight nod said, "I know. That's why I'm leaving you on your own. Doesn't mean I'll stop worrying, though."

With that, he turned around and left the compartment. Ginny sighed heavily. She still avoided meeting Harry's eyes directly, but at least her blush had diminished. She looked at the three of them and asked, "Another round?"

By the time Ron returned, the world outside the window had gone dark. They would soon reach Hogwarts, and Ron thought it was time to change into their school's uniform.

"Let's let Ginny change into hers first," Ron said, as he led Harry, Colin, and Graham outside the compartment. However, when they stepped into the hall, the train slowly came to a halt. Ron was clearly confused at the fact, and so were a lot of the other students, Harry thought, when people's heads popped out of the many compartments of Hogwarts Express.

In hindsight, as the train's light flickered off, and a freezing cold washed over him, Harry concluded that maybe they should have changed into their uniforms a bit earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

"Lumos."

The tip of Ron's wand flared with white light, which cut through the darkness that had fallen upon them moments ago. Soon, the corridor was filled with the noise of doors sliding open as students stepped out of their compartments. Many cast the same spell as Ron had. It was eerily quiet as if every single one of them was waiting for something to happen. The door behind Harry slid open as well, startling him and the others. It was only Ginny.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, her wand held tightly in front of her. "Why is it so cold all of sudden?"

"Dunno," said Ron, panic evident in his voice. "But put that wand away, before you hurt someone. It's better if you all get inside. I'll go look for Percy. He's bound to know –"

Ron halted in his speech at the first scream coming from the far left. More and more cries of terror joined the first, and students were rushing to move away from whatever was that had caused such a reaction. It didn't take a long time for Harry to know what it was. Hooded creatures, tall enough to kiss the ceiling, had embarked. They were also headed their way, floating past the students at a rapid speed.

"Dementors," Graham said, alarmed. "Quick. Get inside."

It was already too late. One of the creatures had reached them. It stopped in front of Harry, drawing a long breath. In the next second, the waves of a frosty sea engulfed his whole body, and Harry descended into its depth, surrounded only by the earth-shattering cold and the heart-wrenching silence. As he went deeper and deeper, a scream echoed.

Hot pain shot through his scar. The voice was muffled, seemingly coming from far, far away. He was sure it was a girl. Someone young. Yet her words escaped him. Amidst the screams, a mad cackle of glee resounded much fiercely than the girl's hopeless cries.

Someone was calling his name. They sounded desperate. Harry wondered if they could hear the girl too, if they could help her, like Harry wanted too.

"Harry!"

He was trembling – no, someone was shaking him. Harry could feel hands tightening around the tips of his shoulders. The voice called his name once more. It was Colin.

Harry started awake, drenched in cold sweat. The train's lights were on again. Colin and Graham stood above him. Someone had moved Harry inside the compartment, on one of the seats. Almost in sync, both Colin and Graham let out huge puffs of relief, as Harry turned his eyes on them. Across from him, Ron was gazing out of the window, his face ashen. Next to him sat Ginny; she was holding her brother's hand, and muttering words Harry couldn't catch.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

The words came from the door. A man dressed in dark grey, worn-out robes walked in. His green eyes peered at Harry from top to bottom until they stopped right at his forehead.

"How's the scar?" the man asked.

"I'm fine, thank you, sir," Harry said, quickly hoping to dodge the question.

The man reached inside one of his pockets and drew out a large piece of chocolate, from which he snapped a second, smaller piece and gave it to Harry. "Eat it, Harry," he said, before going for the door again. "I need to have a word with the conductor. Eat that chocolate, Harry. You'll feel better."

Harry wanted to ask a few questions to the man, but had no opportunity to do so because he disappeared down the hallway. Instead he decided to ask the question he had wanted to do since he woke up."What were those creatures? The ones that attacked us."

"Dementors," said Graham, sitting down beside Harry. "They guard Azkaban, our prison. They're terrifying creatures. I can't believe the Headmaster would let them on the train."

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that, mate," Ron said, softly without looking away from the window. "He wouldn't endanger us this way. He's going to be spitting mad when word gets to Hogwarts, let me tell you."

"Who let them in then?"

"Who knows? Probably, some old dung from the Ministry, hoping to catch Sirius Black."

"It's lucky Professor Lupin was in the train with us," Ginny added. "Dad did tell us Dementors were nasty, but I never imagined it would be so bad until now. I stopped believing I could ever be happy again, for a minute you know. And you, Harry, you had the worst of it."

"I did?"

It was Graham who responded, "You were also clutching your forehead like mad. It took both me and Colin to move your hands away. We were afraid you'd poke your right eye out of its socket."

"You were screaming the whole time too," Colin said, looking as if he was about to cry. "What happened, Harry?"

"I don't know. I only remember a girl screaming. I reckoned it might have been you, Ginny."

Ginny shook her head. "No one screamed, Harry."

"Then who did I hear?"

No one could give Harry an answer.

* * *

"Harry, look, it's Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall hadn't changed a bit since the time Harry saw her last. However, her deep green robes fitted right in with the magical aesthetics of Hogwarts.

"The first years, Minerva. Right on time."

"Thank you, Silvanus. Would you mind bringing Mr Potter to my office? Poppy needs to give Mr Potter a quick look before the Sorting begins."

"Sure thing, Minerva."

Excited whispers broke out, breaking the sombre ambience that had followed the Dementors' visit.

"Potter? Does she mean Harry Potter? I can't believe we'll be in the same year as Harry Potter. Look, it's him. He's kinda tiny, don't you think?"

"As if you're taller, Amanda."

"Why yes. But I didn't defeat You-Know-Who as a baby, did I?"

Graham cleared his throat loudly. He patted Harry on his back and shoved him towards Professor McGonagall. Then he spun around, and said, "Hey, do you guys know that we have to fight a troll to get sorted? My dad, Archibald Pritchard, I'm sure most of you have heard of him, has told me countless stories of the injuries he has to deal with each year."

"Wait, what?" Colin chirped in. "You're telling me this now. How come – ouch, Graham you stepped on my foot."

Harry fought back a chuckle, which grew even bigger when Professor McGonagall told Colin to be quiet. For a minute, he too had been terrified at the idea of facing a troll on his first night at Hogwarts, but it was clear that Graham was lying for his sake.

He trailed behind Professor Kettleburn as they reached a fairly large, cozy office. A woman was already inside.

"Professor Lupin owled us ahead, Mr Potter," Professor Kettleburn explained." Madam Pomfrey, our loving Matron here, will be performing a quick check on you."

"Your flattery will get you nowhere, Kettleburn," Madam Pomfrey said, curtly. "You will still come to the infirmary as soon as the Feast is over. You need to rest."

It was a quick affair after that. Madam Pomfrey said there was nothing she could expect for giving Harry some chocolate. When Harry informed her he already ate some, she declared him good to go.

On the way back, Professor Kettleburn gave Harry a brief summary of Hogwarts' rules. His classmates were still waiting in front of the giant double door by the time they got back, but Professor McGonagall had disappeared. She came back moments later and told everyone to follow her inside the Great Hall. They entered one by one, and gaspes of amazement broke out from all of them. The Hall was lit by thousands of candles, floating over four long tables where the other students were sitting. Colin muttered, "Look at the ceiling, Harry. Isn't it great?"

At the front, there was also another table for the professors and Harry instantly recognised Professor Remus Lupin. Ron, Harry noticed as they neared the front, was sitting on the far left table. Professor McGonagall stopped them right there and placed a stool which had an old wizard hat on top. Near its bream a rip expanded in front of Harry's eyes and the hat started to sing of all things.

The song is pretty interesting, Harry thought, as the old hat sang about the four houses and what they represented. When it ended its singing, Professor McGonagall said, "When I call your name, please, step forward. Abergail, Amanda."

The girl who had not been impressed by Harry's height took hesitant steps until she reached the stool. The Sorting Hat didn't take long to sort her in Ravenclaw, causing a round of applause to arise from the second table on the right. After her, a Gryffindor, a Hufflepuf, three Slytherins, another Ravenclaw and then...

"Creevey, Colin."

Colin sprinted to the table and in his excitement almost tripped over the stool. He regained his equilibrium, took the hat, sent an apologetic look on Professor McGonagall's way and finally put the hat on, which sank on Colin's head the brim coming down to Colin's chin. It didn't take long for the hat to sort Colin as a Gryffindor, causing a round of applause from the table where Ron sat.

"Dashalot, Thorpe"... "Harper, Thornton"... then a blonde haired girl, "Lovegood, Luna"... then "Mabauwa"... and finally –

"Potter, Harry."

The whispers broke out almost immediately.

"Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?"

"Joshua, move. I can't see a thing."

"Look it's him. That black haired boy, I think. Can you see the scar, Mary?"

"Can't believe it. Bloody hell, they did tell us but still, The Boy-Who-Lived, here, at Hogwarts."

"Harry, go. It will only make it worse if you stay here any longer."

Harry nodded at Graham and walked toward the stool. Each step took a grand effort to make. His body was trembling and Harry felt as if an elephant was pressing on his chest. What if he didn't belong at Hogwarts, after all?

"Good luck, Harry." Colin's sudden shout from the Gryffindor table did take Harry aback but a small smile engraved itself on his face. He sat on the stool and waited for the hat to be placed on his head.

"Ah, difficult, very difficult," said a voice in his head, the moment his sight got obscured by the insides of the hat. "Where shall I put you, I wonder."

Harry clenched his eyes closed, Colin at the uppermost part of his mind and thought, "Gryffindor, Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor, eh? Are you sure? Well, if it's that important to you – better be, Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers. Colin was grinning like mad, and already moving to make some room for Harry. Ron looked proud as he clapped with the others. A set of red-haired twins were loudly exclaiming, "We got Potter. We got Potter."

"Harry," Colin said, when Harry sat down. "This is going to be great. Oh, dad is going to be so happy when he finds out."

"Great job, mate," said Ron over Colin's shoulder. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Ron."

"Pritchard, Graham."

At the call of their friend's name, both Colin and Harry turned their attention towards the front of the Great Hall. Graham stepped towards the Sorting Hat, and traded a brief look with Harry right before the hat sank onto Graham's small head, obscuring his eyes from Harry. He counted the minutes, his foot tapping against the marble floor, all the while hoping that Graham would join them in Gryffindor.

One minute.

Two Minutes.

And it finally shouted, "Slytherin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry 😅

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction, and I would greatly accept any feedback you might have as I'm aiming to grow as a writer.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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